


Pulling Teeth

by somegunemojis



Category: Naruto
Genre: Daddy Issues, Hatake Teeth, Mommy Issues, Non-Linear Narrative, Remembering Your Roots, Torture, Trans Hatake Kakashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:13:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26289298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somegunemojis/pseuds/somegunemojis
Summary: There are all kinds of things you can grow into.
Kudos: 33





	Pulling Teeth

He gets these things from his wild, wild mother: 

. i. the fine bones of her face,  
. ii. the deep set of her eyes,  
. iii. the pointed snout of her nose,   
. iv. the love of his father,  
. v. the teeth of a wolf.

Hatake Kakashi is nineteen years old when he comes to, wrists tied tight to the arms of a chair with dozens of loops of razor wire. There is a single bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, a set of tools laid out in a neat line on the table in front of him. His left eye is swollen shut, his mask is missing, and he can feel the blood crusting on his face, under his nose, down his neck, tacky where it’s drying into his undershirt.

His baby teeth come in needle sharp and with a vengeance. He can’t stop chewing on his toys, himself, his parents, drawing blood with every opportunity. His mother laughs, and his father despairs. She dies, and his father can no longer look directly at him. He pulls on a mask.

The Hound mask lays face up in two pieces next to the tools on the table. There’s a perfect, jagged crack running all the way down the middle. It's nestled on top of his body armor, stained with red. He blinks slowly and tries to get his bearings. The world is soft and distorted in the way that heavily implies brain injury, or really good drugs, or both. He tries to recall how he ended up here, what he was doing, whether he was with a team or not and he comes up empty, can’t even think back to what he did all damned week without his focus slipping from his grasp like tiny grains of sand. His head falls back, the movement jerks his arms against the wire and makes them ooze more blood from the freshly torn skin. Someone mutters that he’s awake.

Cutting his teeth comes early, when a group of older boys call him names: freak, an Inuzuka's bastard, orphan, monster. One of them reaches out to shove him and he bites down on the kid’s hand, won’t let go until they hit him so hard in the face that two of his milk teeth fall out. They remain stuck in the older boy’s hand, pressed into bone, and he gives them a bloodied but victorious smile as they scamper off to their parents. He has just made chunin but he used none of his ninja skill, because his father is two weeks dead. He wears the mask until the bruises fade, and just keeps it on after that.

They ply him with questions, hit him in the chest, the stomach. He doesn’t make a sound. Every time he tries to look at their faces he sees nothing, not even a mask, just a blank blur. One of them makes the mistake of trying to lift his head by his chin, and he bites down on their hand and shakes, hears them scream. Their skin tears even worse when they try to yank their hand away instinctively, and their blood rushes hot and heavy on his tongue. He wants to gag, but instead snarls wetly and only lets go when they hit him in the face hard enough that his whole world spins and blackens. 

The adult teeth don’t grow back in for months, and he can’t keep his tongue out of the hole left there. His gums feel strangely smooth, and he can’t help but feel as if he's been defanged. 

He jerks awake once more with their fingers digging into the flesh of his face, gripping so hard that their nails leave fresh bloody crescents welling in the thin skin under his eyes. They pry his jaw open, and he can’t stop the low moan that leaves him when they pull out the pliers. Light settles in strange fractals across the room, glinting off the metal of the table, the tools, the wire on his wrists. The canine they pull from his skull slides out with a sickening squelch, easily two inches long from root to tip and razor sharp, bloodied bone white in the flickering light. They leave his head tilted back and pinch his nose until he chokes on the blood. 

His other baby teeth fall out eventually, and his adult teeth grow in larger, and sharper. Far too big for his mouth at first, but he figures he will grow into them. The mask stays on, because people stare. He catches Minato giving him an odd look when they eat dinner together one night, and resolves to eat a little faster the next time. 

He’s so tired. He doesn’t look at the mess team Ro leaves of the compound they found him in, the smears and splinters they left of his captors, and he doesn’t insist he can run on his own. He can’t keep his tongue out of the hole left in his mouth, but he doesn’t get the tooth replaced-- develops the habit of running his tongue over the gums when he’s agitated and then trains himself out of it because the jump in his throat is too obvious a tell.

Naruto jumps at him one day reaching for the edge of his mask, the knuckle of his forefinger brushing against the concave softness of his lip stretched over the gap, and he snaps his jaw shut to resist the urge to bite the boy's hand even as he jerks his head away with a low snarl that rumbles in his chest. Naruto jumps away with a yelp, and then they stare at each other silently, a deep awkwardness settling between them. Kakashi clears his throat, does not reach for his face and does not run his tongue over the gums ten years later, and he turns to walk away.


End file.
